


It's All Been Done

by lalazee



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Canon Compliant, Comedy, Drama, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Infidelity, M/M, Past Character Death, Past Infidelity, Pre-Canon, Romance, Rough Sex, Switching, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 11:12:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11827554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalazee/pseuds/lalazee
Summary: One of the biggest mistakes of Robert’s adult life had just appeared at his door in khakis and smelling of freshly baked cookies.Fuck alcoholism.It was Joseph Christiansen, motherfuckingyouth ministerand king of Robert’s deviant dreams, that would drive Robert to drink.Or:Robert and Joseph knew each other long before anyone thought. Then Robert moved to Maple Bay and everything went to hell in a hand basket.





	It's All Been Done

**Author's Note:**

> Few notes here, possibly spoilers if you're not obsessed with researching Joseph & Robert.
> 
> 1\. I'm not including any cult implications in this fic. This is just innocent Daddy Love Fic, alright, ya'll?  
> 2\. This fic ends about two years before Dadsona moves into the neighborhood.  
> 3\. In the actual DD game, when confronted about Joseph's past with Robert, Joseph basically implies that it was Robert who got "weird" about them having a one night stand. But what if Joseph was just speaking from a place of pain and actually... Joseph had been longing for more all along?

“You’re beautiful,” Robert said, his brow furrowed as if the mere thought deeply disturbed him. “Why the hell you hitchin’ rides along Jersey for, anyway?”

Sunlight caught and glinted in the messy blonde bun bunched atop Joe’s head as he tilted his chin, attention shifting from the guitar strings he lovingly plucked with long fingers, toward Robert, splayed comfortably naked on the bed with arms folded behind his head.

A small frown pursed Joe’s lips, his utterly clear, youthful skin blushing from bare chest to high, sharp cheekbones.

At twenty-one, an eleven year difference from Robert, Joe appeared impossibly pure. Utterly unattainable.

Which was probably why the backs of Robert’s knees were still damp from fuckathon number infinity, his legs still a little like jelly, and his heart struggling to remain unattached to this man whom had walked into his life by stepping into his car with nothing but a backpack and a guitar case.

Robert had been there before. Still was, on and off. He couldn’t have passed the kid by.

Still, his curiosity nagged.

“What _should_ I be doing, then?” Joe said, his smile white and sharp and charming. Blue eyes glittered like skies, and Robert wondered just how many people had fallen into them, and how accustomed to it was Joe.

“Dunno,” Robert said with a shrug as he lazily lurched to a sitting position. He scooted towards the edge of the bed, where Joe sat, and snatched the guitar to his own nude lap. He strummed a few chords by muscle memory. “Go to New York. Model. Sell what you’ve got.”

“You really think that?” Joe said, his voice smooth as he edged in close, their hips pressed firmly. One long arm slung over Robert’s shoulder, and with his free hand he held his own chord down, far beneath Robert’s fingers. Robert immediately strummed, and the harmony hummed through him like spring and sunshine.

“You don’t?” Robert said, sliding down for a new chord and watching as Joe followed suit, practically reading his mind.

“I’m not interested in selling myself to anyone for anything. I just want this.” Joe switched up his chord, made a strange and haunting harmony with Robert. The song started to sound older than Joe, older than what some perfect twenty-one year old Ken doll could bring forth from soul to fingers.

“Whaddaya mean, this?” Robert asked, plucking, strumming, leaning into Joe’s warm side.

“Freedom,” Joe said, and when Robert glance over, he saw those lips curved in their own secretive smile.

“Little rich boy lookin’ for a good time,” Robert said, only half meaning it.

Their tryst might have only been two nights and three days, but they’d drank enough whiskey and spun enough stories as they stumbled along the Jersey Shore that Robert knew that wasn’t it entirely. He knew because _his_ soul was the same, too.

Even when he had someone waiting at home for him – spitting mad as she was – and an eleven year old daughter, it didn’t feel like enough. There was always more. There was always the open highway, the next sunset on the horizon, the next town, the next experience.

Joe only laughed that light, melodic laugh that he had.

“What does that make _you_? Washed up married man looking for a way keep his gay at bay?”

“Let’s not do the whole label thing.”

“You started it, handsome,” Joe said with a chuckle, then leaned in and planted a smacking kiss on Robert’s rough, unshaven cheek.

Robert stopped playing, let his strumming hand rest and his other cover and encircle Joe’s hand around the neck of the guitar. He turned and met Joe’s half-smile with a narrowed look, their faces mere inches apart.

The way Joe smiled, the way he looked at Robert – he always looked like he knew just a little more than Robert did. It both intrigued him and set him on edge. And maybe turned him on.

Oh, how he’d loved watching that toothy, smiling mouth curve into a moan, over and over in the past days.

Rather than rising to the smart-ass expression on Joe’s face, Robert breathed in some calm, leaned in and pressed a firm kiss to that wide, clever mouth. He pulled back just so that their noses brushed, and so he could watch those clear blue irises fog over to dusky, deep grey. Yeah, that was more his color.

“Gotta get dressed,” Robert said, surprised at the sound of his own rough voice. “Then I gotta go. Home.”

“I know,” Joe said, eyes flicking back and forth as he searched Robert’s face for fuck knew what. “Bobby from Brooklyn.”

“How’d you know I was –“

“The accent’s not hard to figure,” Joe said, with a soft breath of a laugh. But his countenance sobered as his wide palms came up to cup Robert’s face.

With his cheeks burning, Robert started to pull back, but only paused out of surprise at how hard Joe was suddenly holding him.

“Hey, Bobby?” Joe said, that velvet voice gone hushed.

Robert grunted in reply, inwardly struggling to maintain such intense eye contact.

“You’re the first good thing I’ve seen on this journey.”  
  
“I’m not a good person, kid.”

“You picked me up, didn’t you? Talked to me like I was normal. Bought me a meal.”

 “You shoulda brought more money with you and bought _me_ a meal.”  
  
“That isn’t the point of what I’m out here to do.”

“You came out here to do _me_ , huh?” Robert said with a grin of his own.

Joe rolled his eyes and dropped his hands with a laugh.

“That was a bonus. You were a bonus.”  
  
“Can’t say anyone’s ever thought of me that way. Can’t say I believe a word you’re saying about it, either,” Robert said, not at all fishing for compliments. He knew he was trash. Joe just romanticized the world, this life.

“So how would you explain _this_ , mister?” Joe said, shifting to show off his bicep. A quaint little anchor, still fresh and puffy from the night before, sat proud and stalk upon his skin.

Robert unconsciously placed a hand on his ribs, just below his armpit, where his own new anchor burned.

“ _That_ was the whiskey.”  
  
“That was us,” Joe said, his jaw set stubborn. “That was these three days and whatever it was that happened the second we looked at each other in that smelly truck of yours.”

“My truck is not smelly. I’m smelly.”  
  
“Stop defending your truck while I’m trying to say goodbye,” Joe said, unable to stifle a laugh.

“Hey,” Robert said, his own grin mirroring Joe’s for once. He leaned in, wrapped one hand around the nape of Joe’s neck and bumped their foreheads together. “Let me show you how to say a real goodbye.”

The sun no longer shone when Robert finally dressed and left a sleeping Joe behind in the motel bed.

Even without looking back, Robert still knew that Joe looked fucking beautiful.

 

 

The doorbell rang.

Who the fuck rang a doorbell on a house that someone was moving into that same fucking day?

Of course, Marilyn, the literal face of their relationship and all things social, had to go to the grocery store to buy quinoa or whatever the fuck ancient grains that were going to make her into Wonder Woman or something.

“This better be a fucking whiskey-gram or they’re gettin’ a goddamn boot up the ass,” Robert said to himself as he stomped in steel-toed shoes to the front of the disheveled house.

Yanking the door open with a semi-polite verbal ass-kicking on his tongue, Robert mustered a glare and –

A wave of dizziness crashed against Robert’s chest and left his heart thrashing for balance. Lucky for him, the last seven years had treated him like the garbage he was, and he’d long learned to school his features into a mask of vague disinterest.

Or, he hoped. Right now, with his face and body going equal parts numb and burning hot, it was difficult to gauge just how he appeared to – to –

Joe was taller. If that was possible. Robert was no slouch – at least, when he wasn’t literally slouching – but Joe was easily skirting six foot four. He’d broadened, muscled out, his biceps straining against a well-fitted pink polo shirt. His hair was no longer the loose, beachy waves of a wanderer. Cropped, styled, still shining like a halo.

And that face. Where he’d been beautiful, he was now devastatingly handsome. His features had lost any remaining softness, his cheeks, jaw, and chin carved from stone. Robert instinctively gritted his teeth against the warm wave that washed through his limbs and left his knees weak.

Those bright, laughing eyes were the same, though now widened in apparent shock as he scoured Robert’s visage from head to toe. That expressive, tempting mouth remained slightly agape.

How much time had passed since Robert had opened the door? Seconds – a full minute? _Fuck_.

“On the list of people that I expected at my front door, I’d have put the Mothman before you. And he’s not even real,” Robert said, thankful his voice didn’t give away the thundering of his heart.

“ _Bobby_?” Joe said, his voice so much deeper than Robert had anticipated. Still cultured and honeyed, but with the rich timbre of a man who towered over six feet. “I can’t – Lord, this is –”

“It’s Robert,” he said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “People call me Robert.”

People whom he hadn’t picked up off the side of the highway called him Robert.

Reaction time flew out the window when Joe flung himself forward and encompassed Robert in the warmest bear-hug he’d ever experienced. Robert’s face was jammed into the crook of Joe’s neck, where he was overwhelmed by the aroma of cookies and expensive, sunny cologne.

“I can’t believe this!” Joe said, his words stumbling over themselves as he pulled back and lightly held Robert’s arms to keep him in place. “This is – I’m baffled. You moved here? Into this house?”

“No,” Robert said flatly. “You caught me. I’m a petty burglar and aspiring arsonist these days. My jugs of gasoline are in the other room now, so if you could just go I’ll finish up here and be on my way. Fire’s already started in the kitchen.”

“You haven’t changed at all,” Joe said with a laugh and a familiar wide smile. He didn’t release Robert from his hold and Robert distantly envisioned hacking off his own arms with a dull, rusty saw, just to get away from this situation.

“Greyer,” Robert said, his voice gravelly as he allowed himself to meet Joe’s eyes. He only saw acceptance and joy. He’d known Joe better than that, though. Joe was sharp as a knife and was never as simple as he seemed. “And a lot older. What are _you_ , kid, not even thirty yet?”

“What’s eleven years between friends, right?” Joe said, his smile going a little crooked, more like a smart-ass grin.

Oh yeah, _there_ was the Joe that Robert knew he kept at bay.

Joe had said the same thing that first night, before the whole thing had kicked off.

“The older you get,” Joe said, taking a step back and reaching up to lightly swipe away one of Robert’s hands by the wrist. “The more it doesn’t matter.”

“Amen,” Joe said with a short huff of a laugh.

“I’ve gotta go,” Robert said abruptly, his heart rampaging against his ribs like a wild animal battling its cage. He needed a drink more than he needed to breathe. He was already backing up and starting to shut the door. “There’s – uh, unpacking, and –”

“Wait, wait!” Joe said, his voice a little breathless as he curled his fingers around the edge of the door and leaned his weight against it. He bowed his head a little too intimately, his face too close to Robert, who was at this point panicking like a motherfucker and frozen in place. “I came here to introduce myself.”

Robert’s eyebrow shot up, his lips curling in an automatic sneering smile.

So they’d play it like that?

“In that case,” Robert said, his voice dry as he kept his hand firmly on the doorknob and met Joe’s intent stare. “Go ahead, neighbor.”

Delight – and a little something else – glinted in Joe’s eyes as he stepped back from the door and pressed a hand so earnestly to his chest as he spoke.

“Hi there, neighbor! I live just next door to you with my wife Mary and our toddler, Chris. We’re blessed to have twins on the way in just a handful of months, too. And my name,” Joe said, his sky blue eyes fixed on Robert’s distrustful gaze, “Is Joseph Christiansen. Everyone calls me Joseph.”

_Do they, now?_

“Oh,” Joe said as he leaned in and took Robert’s free hand – the one fisted at his side – and opened the palm so they could shake. More like, Joe intimately squeezing Robert’s hand. “And if you need anything – anything _at all_ – please feel free to come calling. After all, I’m the youth minister at Maple Bay’s little church down the street.”

The earth was welcome to open up beneath Robert and plunge him into the abyss now.

Like, _any_ time now.

“Sorry,” Robert said, his voice low as he yanked his hand from Joe and stepped back into the relative safety of his home. This was definitely the Joe he remembered – the one who perused and persisted with a charming smile and piercing, intelligent eyes. Seven years ago he’d been weaker. Fallen into that clever mind and even cleverer hands. But now – now he was trying to make things right in his life.

With what Robert hoped looked like distaste, he wiped his hand down the thigh of his jeans.

“I don’t believe in that shit anymore.”

Robert caught a flash of that predatory grin as he shut the door in his new neighbor’s gorgeous face.

Finally, Robert allowed himself to go weak. His back thumped against the door as he slid to the ground.

One of the biggest mistakes of Robert’s adult life had just appeared at his door in khakis and smelling of freshly baked cookies.

Fuck alcoholism.

It was Joseph Christiansen, motherfucking _youth minister_ and king of Robert’s deviant dreams, that would drive Robert to drink.

 

***

 

“Leave him the fuck alone, Joseph,” Mary said, sitting on the couch in black boyshort underpants, an old high school t-shirt, and a glass of wine in hand. She stretched out her legs and propped her feet up on the cushioned ottoman. “He’s wife died a week ago. He wants the Four Horsemen, not _your_ ugly mug.”

Joseph was barely listening as he pocketed his house keys and wallet. He turned, his brow furrowed.

“The Four Horsemen? I’m sure he’d devastated, but surely he doesn’t want the apocalypse to –”

“The _drink_ , Joseph, the drink,” Mary said, nearly sloshing her wine over the rim with her emphatic arm movements. “Johnny Walker, Jack Daniels, Jim Beam, and Jameson.” Mary aimed a lewd wink Joseph’s way. “Johnny, Jack, Jim, Jameson, and… _Hmmm_? No Joseph. Poor baby. Left out, as usual.”

“That’s the last thing he needs,” Joseph said, picking up with one hand the two large supreme pizzas he’d had delivered to the house.  
  
“What, the Four Horseman or you?”

“Goodnight, Mary. Sleep well,” Joseph said, heading for the back sliding doors.

“He doesn’t even like you, Joseph!” Mary called after him. “He’s gonna be pissed!”

Joseph said nothing, his jaw tight as he bit back any form of rebuttal. He knew Mary was right, and he didn’t care. He’d spent the last seven days knocking at Joseph’s door, and to no avail. Tonight, Joseph was determined. Once he had his mind set on something, there was no quitting.

If Joseph were to be honest with only himself and God, he’d been standing at Robert Small’s doorstep for the last three years.

So, maybe the front door wasn’t the right place to coax him out.

With a face set in stubbornness, Joseph crossed from his neat, cropped lawn to the backyard with overgrown grass and dark, shadowy copse of trees. The back porch lights weren’t on, but that wasn’t surprising. Joseph hadn’t seen a single light in that house for days.

With the intent of rapping his knuckles on the glass back doors, Joseph climbed the few short stairs up to the risen porch and –

Found himself approaching Robert, splayed out in a lawn chair with a fizzled-out cigarette hanging from his bottom lip, a handle of whiskey in one hand, his hair in utter disarray. He still wore his funeral suit, minus the jacket. The funeral was four days ago.

“Bobby,” Joseph said with a sigh, his vision blurring with tears at the mere sight. “Hey.”

From the first time they’d met, Joseph had felt worlds younger than this man. He still did. There was something about Robert Small that humbled a person in a way no sermon ever could.

“Fuck off,” Robert said, his voice husky from disuse. His dead cigarette fell from his mouth to his lap, and he didn’t seem to care. 

“I brought pizza.”

Silence prevailed, as it often did with Robert.

“Pizza can stay. You can go.”

“I’m afraid it’s a two for one deal,” Joseph said, his voice firm as he dragged up a chair beside Robert with his free hand and sat himself down. He settled the large pizzas upon his lap, not caring that the bottom of the box burnt his thighs.

Without a word, Joseph opened the top box and aimed it towards Robert.

Distrustful as any abused animal, Robert looked between the pizza and Joseph’s face.

“What’s your angle?”

“I have to have an angle for bringing pizza and comfort to my mourning neighbor?”

“In your case, yeah,” Robert said, but nabbed a slice anyway and took a hefty bite.

Joseph chewed on the inside of his lip, gazing off to the side, his chest tight with a thousand things he could say.

He knew he’d let a part of himself out that first day they’d encountered each other anew. Joe was the stupid kid who’d run out on his high school sweetheart and fiancé, sweet, sassy Mary. Joe was the guy who had used his charms to finagle his way into people’s homes and beds as he travelled the length of the east coast in search of a place he wouldn’t feel so fucking claustrophobic.

But all it had done was bring him back here.

It hadn’t been this town that had made him feel cooped up, nor his family’s expectations which had suffocated him. It had been himself.

As soon as he’d been able to let go of the idea that he could micromanage and control every aspect of his life – as soon as he realized God would have a plan, and knew where to guide him – Joe had returned home, more a man than he’d ever been.

He’d married the girl, had the kids. Made a name for himself, and used his personal experiences to connect with people – particularly kids who had been like himself.

And then Bobby from Brooklyn had opened the door, looking as rough around the edges and nonchalant as he ever had. A charming grey had peppered his hair, and those deep, dark shuttered eyes had been even more indecipherable than before.

But his voice had been the same, that distinct accent, the way he narrowed his eyes and cocked his head in a way that lanced right through him.

Even seven years previous to that, Robert had been able to look right through him. Past the charm, the smiles, the _shtick_. He’d seen intelligence and drive. He’d even seen the calculating, callous side. And he’d accepted it all so effortlessly.

When Robert had opened that door, it had all come flooding back. Joe, not Joseph, had stood before him. Needy, selfish. Wanting, aching.

“There’s an angle,” Joseph found himself saying, quietly into the night, as if the trees above their heads would soak up all their secrets.

Robert didn’t reply. He was working on his third slice.

“I want – I need to be near you,” Joseph said, leaning back in the lawn chair. He tipped his head, looking to the stars that sprinkled and peeked through the oak canopy. “I almost don’t care that you hate me. It’s just enough to be here. I’m –” Joseph coughed a short, harsh laugh. “Selfish. I am. We know that.”

“I don’t hate you,” Robert said gruffly, wiping his hands on his wrinkled suit pants.

Joseph dared to glance over.

“I haven’t known you to lie, Robert.”

“Bullshit.”

“Okay, that _is_ bullshit. But I don’t know why you’re lying about _this_.”

Robert slouched and slunk down into his chair, looking half his height as he brought the fifth of whiskey to his mouth and drank.

He didn’t even hiss as he set the bottle on the floorboards beside him.

“We moved here to make things right, y’know.”

Joseph frowned and remained silent.

“My drinking and – restlessness.”

_I’m not a good person, kid._

 “When Val went to college –”

“I met her at the wake. She was just you in a wig.”  
  
“She ain’t that ugly.”

“Neither are you.”

“Whatever. She went to college and we moved here to start fresh.” Robert took another swig from his bottle, this time scrunching his face up in disgust that had nothing to do with the drink. “And on the _first fuckin’ day_ you show up, y’know? How could I – how was I expected to – _fuck_ , Joe, you fucked it all up for me.”

“We all make our choices, Robert,” Joseph said, knowing full well what he meant. Robert’s presence had sent his and Mary’s already tense relationship over the edge into endless rough seas. “You didn’t seem particularly affected, anyway.”

“Neither did you, Mr Perfect,” Robert said, biting off each word with spite.

“You couldn’t tell?” Joseph said quietly, sweeping a glance over. Their gazes held for a long moment.

“Why is this such a big fucking deal?” Robert said, his voice gravelly and hushed, his countenance exhausted. “It was three days. Three days in the scope of our entire lives.”

“I wonder the same,” Joseph said. “I suppose only God knows.”

“God doesn’t know shit about me, I’ll tell you that. He’s about as real as Mothman.”

“You’re obsessed with the Mothman.”

“ _You’re_ obsessed with God. Now who looks more ridiculous?”

Joseph bit back a laugh and they fell into contemplation again.

What was it about them? Had Robert really imprinted so strongly upon Joseph as a young man? He knew the answer was, undoubtedly, yes.

Once Robert had singlehandedly devoured an entire large pizza by himself, Joseph got to his feet, set the full and empty boxes on the patio table and turned to Robert with hands on hips.

“Why don’t we get you in a nice, hot shower, _hm_?”

“I showered.”

“In whiskey?”  
  
"Yes, actually."

“It could be your own personal candle scent. Whiskey Showers.”

“Sounds like something I saw in a porno.”

“Robert,” Joseph said, a warning in his tone. “Shower. Come on. You need to get out of those clothes.”

“I c-can’t,” Robert said, his voice cracking with a suddenness that Joseph’s every hair stood on end in alert. “This is – this is the last thing I wore when I –”

Joseph dashed to stand before Robert, dropping to his knees between Robert’s thighs. His arms caught Robert around the waist as Robert careened forward, his cheek resting upon Joseph’s shoulder as a sob broke through.

“’S the thing I wore when I last saw her.”

Joseph’s heart clenched for Robert as the barrage of tears continued. His shoulder was soaked, his back crying out with pain from holding this position, and still he refused to move. He’d been standing on Robert’s doorstep for three years. He wouldn’t back out now that he’d finally been invited in.

Eventually the sobs abated, and Robert sagged against Joseph with a ragged sigh.

Rubbing wide, slow circles around Robert’s back, Joseph calculated what needed to come next.

This person was not okay.

“Let’s get you inside,” Joseph said, pulling back enough to place his hands on either side of Robert’s face. “You can shower. The clothes will still be here.”

Robert’s eyes were bloodshot, the deep bruises beneath them indicative how much sleep he hadn’t had in the past days. He looked gaunt, his skin sallow, his partial beard prickly beneath Joseph’s palms.

“’Kay,” was all Robert said.

With slow, easy motions, Joseph led Robert into the darkened home. It smelled musty, like old food, and laundry left in the washing machine too long.

Flicking on the kitchen lights, Joseph saw a half-mug of coffee on the counter. It was flowered, painted rose gold, and filled with green mold. Marilyn’s cup, undoubtedly never touched. A sticky note beside it – her scribbled grocery notes.

Robert led him through the living room, where he’d clearly been sleeping by the looks of the pillow and rumpled blanket bunched on the couch. Marilyn’s shoes remained beside the entrance to the front door. Upstairs, Robert paused in front of a closed door.

“This is – was – our room. I – there’s – I don’t go in there much. Don’t wanna ruin anything.”

Joseph imagined the bedroom was like the rest of the house. Untouched. Preserving the memory.

“I was sleeping in the guest bedroom, but it still smelled like her,” Robert said, drunkenly knocking a shoulder against a wall and using it to keep himself standing as he walked to the end of the hall. “Bathroom.”

“Can you shower on your own?” Joseph said, his hand at the small of Robert’s back for added balance.

Robert scoffed and shot a withering glare Joseph’s way.

“’M not a pussy, a’right?”

“Bobby,” Joseph said, meeting those hot, angry eyes. “I just want to be here for you. I’ll sit outside the bathroom door.”

“Whatever,” Robert said, turning and stomping into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Joseph sighed and slid to the floor, staring at his hands.

Robert truly loved Marilyn. This had always been evident. In fact, they’d both obviously loved each other; despite the screaming matches he and Mary would catch wind of from an open window once in a while.

Marilyn had been mouthy, fun, and empowered. Joseph had seen the way Robert’s eyes had followed her every move, even as he stood at the sidelines of every major barbeque.

And Joseph remembered the jealousy he’d felt snake its way up around his heart and squeeze until he could barely catch a breath. He’d prayed over it plenty of times. For strength, understanding – simple goodness.

Joseph looked for goodness within himself more than anything.

Mary had loved them both, too. She was mourning, in her own seething manner. Robert, Mary, and Marilyn. Bonded by something Joseph couldn’t weasel his way into.

_No Joseph. Poor baby. Left out, as usual._

However, Joseph knew something the rest of them didn’t. He held on to that knowledge tightly, a lifeline in this world of continually looking for his place.

Robert had given him a place.

So quickly, so easily Joe had slid into that spot in Bobby’s passenger seat, into the motel bed with him, onto the Jersey Shore beach at midnight with a bottle to share and a skinny dip when the moon came up. They’d made music together, written songs that would never be heard by anyone else, told stories with a level of honesty no one else would accept in them.

The moment he’d seen Robert, Joseph had wanted it all back. Still did.

How do you get back what you’re not allowed to have?

Robert emerged from the bathroom, a towel slung low around his waist. Joseph looked up as Robert looked down, his hair dripping delicate droplets onto Joseph’s cheeks.

“How do you feel?” Joseph asked, his eyes flicking over the hint of an anchor printed on Robert's ribs. His heart flopped in his chest.

“Like shit, dumbass,” Robert said, striding away in a wake of minty pine smell.

Joseph got to his feet and scrambled after.

Robert whipped around in the middle of the hallway, his eyes narrowed.

“What, you gonna help me get dressed? Fuck off, I’m not an invalid, my wife’s just dead.”

Joseph held up both hands in peace and said nothing as he took a few steps back.

Robert barged into the main bedroom, quick to shut the door behind him. After some rustling, he emerged in a tattered band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and bare feet. He looked a little more fresh faced, a little more sober, and a lot cleaner. It was an improvement, at least.

“You need some rest,” Joseph said. “Would you like to sleep at ours?”

“I wanna be alone, not surrounded by a bunch of creepy brats screaming the house down. The twins are, what, almost three? I’d rather be dead than stay there. Actually, I’d just generally rather be dead.”

“Let me rephrase,” Joseph said, steel backbone lining his voice as he infringed on Robert’s space and cupped the nape of his neck to ease him closer. Their gazes clashed. “Let me take care of you.”

“I’m –” Robert seemed to swallow his words, huffing a short breath from his nose like a bull as he stared Joseph down. “I can’t stay there. With you, with your family.”

“Mary’s there. You love Mary.”

“I can’t stay there,” was all Robert would say, his jaw taut.

Joseph bit the inside of his cheek, searching Robert’s face for some kind of give, some kind of meaning. He only saw numbed sorrow and animal ferocity.

“Do you want to stay here?”  
  
“No,” Robert said quickly, his voice tell-tale cracking.

“My yacht,” Joseph said, his hand squeezing the back of Robert’s neck. “Stay at my yacht. For as long as you’d like.”

“Why would you let –”

“Because I want to be your friend.”

Robert blinked, anger fading to confusion.  
  
“ _Why_?”

“Because –” Joseph frowned, his eyebrows dropping low as he studied Robert’s suddenly vulnerable expression. “Because I want to be a good person for you.”

“I’ve never asked you to be anything for me. Do shit for yourself.”

They stood there in the hall for some time, Robert’s hair dripping all over Joseph’s hand, Joseph unable to move and break this moment.

“Will you stay at the yacht?” Joseph said. “Let me clean this place up. Pack things for you, so you don’t have to. And when I’m done, come back. Live beside me again. Keep coming to those barbecues you hate. Pretend to ignore me when I wave at you on my way to my car every morning. Keep being there for Mary, because I no longer have that privilege. Just – keep being you, beside me.”

Robert’s expression was unreadable, but he hadn’t moved. Hadn’t tried to escape.

If there was one thing Joseph knew, it was that his own stubbornness could outrun Robert’s.

“Fine. Just stop being such a fuckin’ sap. I wanna puke.”

“That’s the whiskey,” Joseph said, dropping his hand back to his side with a half smile.

“No, that’s little rich boy, Joe. You always get what you want,” Robert said, sweeping past him and heading down the stairs.

Joseph turned and watched Robert’s wide, muscular back retreat.

“Do I?” he said with a sad smile.

How do you get back what you’re not allowed to have?

You don’t.

 

 

“Why haven’t you kicked me off this thing, yet?” Robert said, sidling up beside Joseph and leaning back against the railing. He looked at Joseph, while Joseph leaned his folded arms on the rail and looked to the sea.

Robert had been living here for three months. If Joseph had to make an educated guess, he’d say Robert was simply afraid of going home. He seemed almost free on the yacht, like he didn’t have to think about what he was running from when the place he laid his head wasn’t even grounded on land.

Joseph understood that. Wanting to run from a world that plagued you.

“Why should I?” Joseph said, turning his head to smile innocently at Robert. He’d admit to himself that he did indeed still use his smile for certain manipulative purposes.

“Because –” Robert jerked a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t I be paying rent or something?”

“That’s not what you’re here for.”

“What am I here for?”

“You’re asking an awful lot of questions today, Bobby Small.” Joseph turned and pressed his wrist to Robert’s forehead, his grin wide. “You okay?”

Robert went still, staring at Joseph, his mouth sober.

“I’m fine,” he said, his pupils wide.

“Sure?” Joseph said, now frowning as he leaned in to search Robert’s expression.

Robert didn’t move from his spot against the rail, his hands gripping the side of either hip.

“No,” Robert said quietly.

Joseph blinked.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re seriously doing all this because you want to be friends?”

Joseph felt his cheeks heat.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Robert’s eyes were piercingly dark, his expression searching as he leaned so close that Joseph could smell the whiskey on his breath.

“I mean, do you want to fuckin’ kiss me right now or not?”

Joseph’s heart leapt into his throat, choking him off.

“ _What_? I –”

“Every time you see me, do you think of it? Do you lie in bed at night and smell me on your skin?” Robert tilted his head, his lips whispering across Joseph’s jaw. “Do you touch yourself and wish it were my hands, my tongue, my mouth?”

_Yes. Fuck yes, I do._

Robert’s voice shocked through Joseph’s system like lightening, his body lighting up, electric currents shocking his limbs, leaving his blood sizzling under the skin.

“Robert, why’re you –”

“You want this, right?” Robert said, his mouth at Joseph’s ear, nipping at it none too gently. “ _Me_. Like before. Fucking you into the mattress, the floor, the shower, against the window with the curtains open.”

“Yes,” Joseph said, barely audible, utterly breathless. “Bobby, _yes_.”

“Come on,” Robert said, suddenly yanking Joseph roughly by the wrist and leading him to the cabin.

Dazed, Joseph followed, already conscious of the tightening bulge in his khakis. Jesus – God, this was exactly what he’d desired for all of these years. And knowing Robert had been sleeping in his bed, naked body wrapped in his sheets all of these months had regularly driven Joseph to distraction.

_You want this, right?_

Joseph stopped short upon entering the cabin. Before Robert could drag him further, he switched their grips and tugged Robert by the hand, back to where he could envelope Robert in his arms.

Robert looked up, gaze foggy with desire and impatience.

“ _What_?”

“Do _you_ want this?”

Robert blinked for a moment, his head cocked as his expression cleared. Then there was that cutting smile, one that could scythe Joseph off at the knees and leave him begging.

“I wanted you the second I opened that door.”

Joseph’s chest burst. That was enough.

Desire scattered like sparks, just as their clothes were tugged, flung, and strewn in abandon.

They were each as ravenous for each other, starved to touch, grip, scratch and own. Robert was an animal, more than Robert could ever recall.

Stark naked, Robert slammed Joseph against the bookshelf, fingertips yanking at his hips with a bruising hold. His thigh slipped between Joseph’s, their cock’s sliding and shifting and sharing their slick desire along each other’s lengths.

Joseph tipped his head back, books clattering to the floor around them like casualties of war, while Robert bit and sucked black and purple full moons along the ridge of Joseph’s collarbone. Gasping with the addictive pain, Joseph painted Robert’s body with his palms, his fingers dragging down his back, clutching his ass tight and hiking Robert closer, their dicks pressed together, searing hot and hard. Robert hissed against Joseph’s throat, biting down hard at the delicate skin beneath his jaw.

Distantly, Joseph heard a _snap_ inside him. Those chains that held him tight and good – the ones only Robert seemed to be able to rattle. They simply snapped.

Then grinding together with only sweat and cum for lube was _not_ enough.

Joseph fisted Robert’s hair and with one brutal tug, pulled Robert’s mouth from his neck. Holding him fast, Joseph took in the swollen lips and nearly black eyes with a rising, creeping sense of excitement.

“Bobby,” Joseph said, a slow, wide smile creeping across his face. “I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you need to crawl when it’s over.”

For the first time in Joseph’s life, he saw Robert’s eyes go wide with shock. He could get used to that.

He could also get used to the way Robert’s cock instantly want so perfectly rock hard that it pulsed insistently against Joseph’s thigh.

“Oh, you like that?” Joseph murmured before he crushed his mouth to Robert’s.

Robert reacted like wildfire. His arms flung around Joseph’s neck, a feral noise rumbling from his throat as he attacked Joseph in a battle of scraping teeth and lashing tongue. Robert hadn’t wanted Joseph like this before – not like _this_. Not like they’d been waiting and watching and learning to – to _feel_ something for each other.

Joseph’s heart would surely implode before the day was over.

Limbs entangled, they stumbled toward the bed, mouths locked on each other’s like it was more important than breathing. Robert kept making these little  needy noises that felt like heaven, like a drug.

“Did you, too?” Joseph said as he shoved Robert back onto the rumpled bed. The whole room smelled like Robert, like tobacco and pine, and Joseph’s head swam with it as he straddled Robert’s thighs and loomed above him. Joseph let his hands roam the juts and contours of Robert’s musculature, dragged the pad of his thumb down each rib that curved beneath the skin like an instrument waiting to be played.

“Did I?” Robert said, his voice utterly ragged, parched. His arms were flung above his head, anchor tattoo a stark mark of ownership, his hands gripping the crown of his hair as Joseph trailed a fingertip up the length of his erection and swirled the leaking cum around the head. "Did – did I what?”

“Did you touch yourself and think of me?” Joseph said, his own voice wavering as he watched Robert’s cock engorge in his hand to what must have been painful levels. Wrapping his fingers around Robert’s hardness, Joseph began to jack his dick with slow, purposeful strokes. “Did you want me all this time?”  
  
“ _Yes_.” Robert swallowed hard, a high whimper filling the air that Joseph had never heard before. “ _Fuck_ , you’re beautiful.”

Joseph’s heart sang and his skin hummed with _want_. Oh, _Lord_ , did he want and desire and covet this man. His body, his mind, his words, his heart.

Slow wasn’t enough. Words weren’t enough. These light touches weren’t enough.

“Stay,” Joseph said firmly, a wicked smile flashing as he crawled past Robert on the bed to reach for the side table drawer. He clumsily rummaged his hand through, finally grabbing hold of the lube and condom, and –

Joseph yelped, the bite on his ass shooting straight to his tightening balls. Looking over his shoulder with pink cheeks, Joseph watched as Robert reared up behind him on his knees, his cock slotting between Joseph’s ass cheeks.

Robert grinned shamelessly.

“Been wanting to do that.”

“You bite more than I remember.”

“You complaining?” Robert asked, shallowly thrusting against Joseph’s ass. The sensation nearly had Joseph’s eyes crossing.

“No,” he choked out. “No complaints.”

For a time, all Joseph could do was bury his face into the sheets that smelled of Robert and let that perfect, hot dick rut against him. When his thighs began to quiver, Joseph sucked in a breath and shot up from their position.

“You’re trying to distract me,” Joseph said, with a haughty stare down his nose.

“I distracted myself,” Robert said hoarsely, his expression so deeply lustful that Joseph’s heart began to spark and snap with renewed fire.

“Come here,” Joseph said, his voice deep and dark as he shot a hand out, gripped the back of Robert’s neck and shoved him down onto the mattress. “Ass up, handsome,” Joseph said, his tone firm, and his own dick aching with delight as Robert wordlessly complied. His hands were already gripping the covers.

With that perfect sight presented for him, a searing wave swamped Joseph with a desire he’d never encountered in his life.

Robert Small, local terror and bad boy of Maple Bay, presenting his ass to him.

“We never did this back then,” Joseph said, almost lovingly as he drenched his fingers in lube and set the bottle aside. “I always felt like you were the big bag wolf who wanted to eat me up.”

“You’re the one who talked yourself into my b _ehhhmmm_.”

“That’s better,” Joseph crooned, his first long finger teasing Joseph’s hole and slipping in with ease. He pumped his finger slowly, savoring each little mewl that erupted, unbidden, from Robert’s lips. “More?”

“No, stop right now,” Robert said breathlessly, a smile evident in his voice even if Joseph couldn’t see it. “I’m ready to go home.”

“If you can make jokes, you can handle more,” Joseph said, unconsciously licking his lips, his mouth salivating as he watched a second finger stretch him further.

“ _Fuck_ , more,” Robert said behind gritted teeth, already rocking his hips back against Joseph’s hand in a needy, irregular rhythm.

Joseph saw red. His vision fogged over, his lungs burning for air. There was only the thick musk of Robert’s arousal, his cry and grunt as Joseph slid in a third and began to scissor, and the thought that soon – _so_ soon – he’d fill Robert to the brim. There would be no one in Robert’s world but Joseph, and Joseph would finally feel so fucking _complete_.

“ _Joseph_ ,” Robert choked out, his knuckles white against the sheets. “For the love of god, _fuck me_.”

A growl erupted from the very depths of Joseph’s chest as he yanked his fingers out none too gently, grabbed Robert by the hips and flipped him over with one heave of strength.

“Wanna see your face,” Joseph said under his breath as he viciously ripped the condom open with his teeth.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Robert said, hooded eyes widening as he stared at Joseph’s mouth spitting out the wrapper and sliding the condom on. “You’re so fuckin’ – what _are_ you?”

Joseph’s smile was instantaneous and predatory as he gripped Robert’s waist and slid him closer, until his ass was rested upon the incline of Joseph’s thighs.

“Not a naïve twenty-one year old anymore.”

Joseph slid his palms along Robert’s inner thighs, spreading them, and brought his slick cock to Joseph’s dripping, waiting entrance.

Looking up, Joseph met Robert’s glazed eyes and said, “You’re still one of first good things I’ve ever seen on this journey.”

Robert couldn’t reply – his eyes fell shut, his mouth a damp, silent ‘o’ as Joseph pushed the head of his dick past that first tight entrance, and slid to the hilt in one slow, smooth motion.

“Sorry,” Joseph said, already sounded like he’d run a mile out of pure physical restraint. “I can’t wait.”

Joseph rose up on his knees, nearly folding Robert in half, and fucked right into him like this was what he’d been built for. Robert’s cries fueled him, urged Joseph on in earnest, his hips snapping, Joseph’s fingertips coming up to dig into the backs of his own thighs, pulling his knees up towards his ears, offering that ass like no one had ever had it. Joseph bit back a snarl at the thought of anyone else touching him, doing this with him, and suddenly pulled out and flipped him roughly.

“ _Down_ ,” Joseph snapped, his hand pressing between Robert’s shoulder blades, his free hand guiding his dick into that open, welcoming hole.

Nails digging crescent moons into Robert’s ass cheeks, Joseph slammed into him with full force, the slap of their hips falling in time with Robert’s gasps and Joseph’s grunts. They were in harmony again, as they’d once been. Joseph grit his teeth so hard his jaw sang with pain. Watching himself impale Robert on his cock had his thrusts stuttering, his breath coming out in uneven riffs.

“ _Joe_ ,” Robert said on a hiccupping gasp, almost as if he were crying. “ _Joseph_.”

Joseph couldn’t stop. He draped himself over Robert’s back, working shallow, quick thrusts as he reaching around and slicked his hand down Robert’s heavily leaking cock. He flicked the taut bundle of skin on the underside of the crown.

Robert’s gruff, choking shout as his entire body spasmed around Joseph’s cock and spilled out over his hand was the most perfect death. Flashes of color spotted Joseph’s screwed-shut eyes as his thighs quaked, his release knocking the breath from him like a punch to the gut.

Black followed.

“Suffocating.”

“ _Mmf_?” Joseph nuzzled the back of Robert’s neck, and felt him shiver in response.

“I said –” Robert reached back and pinched Joseph’s thigh, _hard_. “I’m gonna suffocate under your seven foot zillion inch body. And as much as there are worse ways to die, I –”

“Alright, alright,” Joseph said with a laugh, rolling off.

“ _Fuuuck_ , ow! You couldn’t have done that slower?” Robert folded his arms and stuffed his face in them, his voice muffled. “You do realize your monster sized dick just got yanked out of my ass, right?”

“Aw.” Joseph said, utterly charmed and unashamed. He sat up and smacked a kiss on Joseph’s ass. “There. All better.”

“Ah yes, the kiss-it-better method. Daddy stamp of approval.”

“Works every time,” Joseph said, as he slid off the condom, tied it, and tossed it in the bedside trash.  
  
Smiling to himself, he lounged beside Joseph with his arms folded behind his head. He felt the bed gently rock with the waves outside and let his eyes fall shut.

Joseph must have dozed, because when he next opened his eyes, still laying in the same position, Robert was across the room, pulling his shirt down over his taut torso. Joseph’s mouth watered all over again.

“Goin’ somewhere?” Joseph said, voice slurred with sleep.

“Yeah,” Robert said, his gaze lingering along the length of Joseph’s body. “Home.”

Joseph blinked, immediately alert as he sat up.

“What – you mean?”

“Yeah,” Robert said, running a hand through his hair as he surveyed the room. It was then that Joseph noticed his two packed duffel bags – the one’s he’d brought with some three months ago.

“Why?” Joseph found himself saying. He knew he should be congratulating Robert on taking that step, but he had a foreboding feeling about this.

“Because I’m done here,” Robert said with a shrug. “I can’t infringe on your life forever.”

Throwing a duffel over each shoulder, Robert met Joseph’s wide-eyed expression with his own unnaturally calm one. For fuck’s sake, his lips were still swollen from Joseph’s and he was already walking out.

“I can’t infringe on Mary, either. She doesn’t deserve that.”

Realization hit. Reality, too.

Joseph couldn’t say a word.  
  
The corner of Robert’s mouth curved up, and something indistinguishable read in his eyes.

“You’re a good thing, too. On this journey.”

For the second time in Joseph’s life, Robert walked out of their room with a bag over his shoulder.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> SO. If you would like me to continue this fic with a part two, where I explore Robert's healing process, Joseph struggling with what to do with his home life, their mutual pining and getting together - all occurring AFTER Dream Daddy - please do let me know. I actually have an entire second part planned out, so if you do desire both Pre-Canon & Post-Canon Robert/Joseph - HOLLA AT ME, YA'LL. (And yes, I'd promise a happy ending.)


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